The Wrath of the Lamb Part VI — The Plea for Help
When Alana offers the deal to Hannibal, he asks almost immediately if it was Will’s idea. He must know that there are ulterior motives behind this plan, but Will’s motives are likely not the same as the FBI’s. He insists that Will ask him in person, and rightly so.
As usual, Will enters through Hannibal’s mind palace, which is conspicuously full of mourners. Hannibal took that mic drop hard. But when we make the cut to reality, Will is inside the cell with him.
For the entirety of the time Hannibal has been in prison, he and Will have spoken through a pane of glass. Reflections have always been key in their interactions — it’s rare you see one of their faces without the other, and they’re often overlapped. There has been a symmetry, but also a separateness to their relationship. Now for the first time (outside of their mind palaces), Will and Hannibal are in the same room. The separation is gone.
I thought you said your goodbyes.
We’ve one last goodbye between us.
You didn’t just say goodbye, though, did you? That little extra bit at the end. What was that you said?
You’d never have turned yourself in unless I rejected you.
Yes, that extra bit. I believe that’s what they call a mic drop. You dropped the mic, Will. But here you are, having to come back and pick it up again.
Hannibal is suspicious. Will had his big exit, and now he’s back the very next day. He knows that something must have changed. Dolarhyde is alive, of course, but he must suspect a reason beyond that.
I knew you’d keep running if I kept chasing you. I knew you wanted me to know exactly where I could find you when I needed to.
This reads almost like filler. It’s a summary of the mic drop for two people who know its content intimately. It does end, however, with this new acknowledgement of need. The first time Will visited Hannibal in prison, it was to get into a mindset. And Hannibal knew: “You just came here to look at me. Came to get the old scent again. Why don’t you just smell yourself?” A report was established from the very beginning. Will doesn’t come to Hannibal for tangible help (like acting as bait) — he comes to him for how it makes him feel.
And you did.
I need you, Hannibal.
This is a deliberately double-edged statement, and both Hannibal and Will must know it. Just how does Will need him? There’s also a notable change of tense. Hannibal’s suggestion that Will needed him can be read almost as a question (you needed me before, but do you still?), answered by Will’s assertion that he needs him now (yes, I do). It’s a full, deliberate sentence — there can be no room for misinterpretation.
Ding dong, the Dragon is not dead.
He told you he wanted to meet you. Maybe that was a serious invitation. After the big escape, you send a message to the Dragon in the personal ads, ask him for a rendez-vous.
He won’t go near a mail drop.
He might be curious enough to look at one, see if you sold him. We chose a drop that can be watched only from a few places, from a long way off. We stake out the observation points.
That sounds weak to you. Even as you say it.
Secret service has a setup they’ve never used. They’ll let us have it. You’re our best shot, Hannibal… Please.
Will and Hannibal finished saying what they needed to with “I need you, Hannibal.” The rest contains zero real information — it’s just a vehicle for implication. Will’s presentation of the plan is delightfully hammy. Not only does he show unwarranted confidence in his lame plot, he has a chirpiness about him that he hasn’t had with Hannibal in ages. If Hannibal can’t tell Will has something up his sleeve, he should never have become a psychiatrist. He knows that this is an escape.
